Murder Abbey
by WishMeTheStars
Summary: When a housemaid is murdered inside Downton Abbey, Lord Grantham hires Sherlock Holmes and John Watson to solve the murder. What they are not aware of is the consequences of their actions. May contain spoilers. Soon to be updated.
1. The Arrival

Murder Abbey

Chapter 1: The Arrival

It was a rainy day and the night was turbulent. Downton was surrounded by a big black cloak, only to be interrupted by thunder, which occasionally illuminated the Abbey and its exterior. Like the storm, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson arrived at Downton in a commotion to cause themselves one. Someone had been murdered and they were here to find out the how, the who and the why and they had just entered the where. They were just standing in the salon, admiring Downton and its splendor.

"It's a nice place, isn't it?" commented John, who could faintly listen to the people chatting in another room close by.

"Yes. It's a shame it's tainted with murder." replied Sherlock. "Besides, it's no Baker Street."

"Gentleman, if you could please join everyone in the drawing room. Lord Grantham awaits you". The voice of Mr Carson resonated and his words wear clear and deep and with his hand pointed at a door, which both guests figured was the door to the drawing room.

As they entered they saw the Crawley family dispersed around the room, the women sitting and chatting and the men standing and drinking. They were all wearing their white ties, something that made John feel embarrassed since both of them were wearing suits. Sherlock's only reaction to the clothing only made him think of how the family carefully followed the aristocrat manners. Everyone was staring at them, a couple of two londoners which no one knew and clearly din't fit in the room. The eldest man of the family was headed in their directions so as to present himself.

"You must be Mr Holmes and Mr Watson. I am the Earl of Grantham and this is my family. How was your trip? I'm terribly sorry about this weather."

"Why should you? It's not like you control it!" exclaimed Sherlock, puzzled by his remark, puzzling the earl now himself.

"The trip was fine, your Lordship" interrupted John. The first thing Sherlock said was already embarrassing him, even more than their clothes.

"Is there anything we can do for you? Have you eaten?"

"Yes, it's alright, we-" John is interrupted by Sherlock.

"We're not here to eat, thank you. We're here to solve a murder." At the word "murder" most of the family seemed to remember the traumatic incident. "Isn't that why we're here? I suggest we get started right away."

"If you wish so." answered Lord Grantham, still puzzled.

"Wouldn't you rather settle in first?" said one of the women seated, clearly the Lord's wife.

"No, we're fine. Thank you" replied Sherlock in a rather stiff way. John was surprised by Sherlock's attitudes even though he was acting in his normal behavior.

Sherlock took out a notepad and a pen. His questioning of the murder was about to begin. John was hoping for the best.

"Can you tell me what you know about the murder?" asked Sherlock to all the people present as if he was holding a collective interrogation. The word "murder" once again alerted the family but much less than before.

"Her name was Alice West. She had been a housemaid at Downton for two years. She seemed like a quiet and reserved girl, not the kind to make trouble really. She was found in her room. We sent for the doctor but there was nothing we could do. She had been hit several times." Lord Grantham took a breath, clearly shaken from what had happened. One of his employees had been killed and he wandered if he could have prevented it.

"So she was shot?" enquired John. Lord Grantham answered affirmatively. "Did you find the weapon?"

"No. We searched the house but we didn't find anything."

"Has the crime scene been cleared?" asked Sherlock.

"Yes. I've told the staff to clear and clean the room when the police was done collecting the evidence over two weeks ago. They found nothing unfortunately." Mrs Crawley spoke assertively but in pity.

"Is there anything left of her belongings?"

"Yes. Somethings are still upstairs, her family has not yet taken them."

"I'll need to see them right away in the morning as well as her room."

"There is one thing. She asked me once permission to head into town one day, claiming she was visiting a friend. Since she had been a good servant I allowed it." This woman in particular spoke with even more assertiveness than the woman who was clearly her mother, except she didn't have that sweetness her mother had.

"And you are..." asked Sherlock as he wrote down in his notepad.

"Mary Crawley."

"You must be her sister then." said Sherlock looking at the one sitting next to her.

"I'm Edith."

There was a brief silence as Sherlock was writing, with everyone still staring at the tall stranger. John intervened.

"Is there anything you know more about Miss West? This "friend" perhaps."

"Well we didn't really knew her so you'll have to ask the staff about her more personal life." responded Lady Grantham. "We just know her family is from Ripon."

"Maybe you could take them downstairs tomorrow, Carson, so they could talk to the staff."

"Yes, my Lord" replied Carson.

"Now, I understand why he is here" said the Dowager looking at Sherlock "but I don't understand what your job is" she said as she looked at John.

"Well, I'm a doctor." answered John.

"Then you're not of much use, are you? The victim's already dead."

John Watson was silent at this remark, not sure how to answered the elderly woman.

"He's my colleague. He helps me with the investigation." said Sherlock, quickly defending his dear friend.

"Well it's getting late and I should be on my way." stated the Dowager.

"Mama, why don't you stay for the night. The weather is terrible. Leave in the morning instead." said Lord Grantham.

"There is absolutely no way that I am staying in this murderous house. I could be next! Carson, bring the car around."

The Dowager said goodbye to her family and left. Her "murderous house" remark wasn't well accepted by any of her relatives. Soon after, the two guests were directed to their rooms where they would sleep while staying at Downton.

"Sherlock, who do you think killed the housemaid? Do you think it was any of them?" inquired John before entering his room.

"No. They're too aristocrat to get their hands dirty."

"Do you think it was any of the staff then?"

"Possibly. I guess we'll have to find out to tomorrow. Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight."

John was lying in bed with the rain still falling outside. In his head the words "murderous house" kept sounding, keeping him up. How the words of an old widowed woman became the reason for his sleepless state he didn't know. He did question, however, how many people had died in the very house he was sleeping in. Were there more victims than Alice West? For a while he lingered with this thought until he slowly fell asleep in the same bed were a Turkish ambassador once slept into the afterlife.


	2. Breakfast

Chapter II - Breakfast

"John!" Sherlock said as he was knocking at the door.

"Coming!" John was still putting on his shirt. The foggy sky outside was reflected in the full body mirror he was staring at. At least it stopped raining. He was having difficulty putting on his tie for some reason, making him somewhat regret that he had passed up the chance to have a valet that day. "I can dress myself, I'm not five" he thought as he said no to Mr Carson's offer the night before. Another set of hands could really be handy.

"Are you still in bed?" grumped Sherlock from outside, clearly not wanting to go downstairs without his partner in solving (when not committing) crimes.

"Just hang on" replied Watson as he became even more frustrated with his tie. It had been a gift from Mrs Hudson for Christmas and it was an odd green. He felt he was wearing moss on his chest every time he wore it. He had no idea why he had packed it.

Just as he was about to give up and grab another, Sherlock abruptly entered the door."Do you need to learn how to tie ties again?" he said, as he saw John struggle with it. Without even thinking, he grabbed it and started to fix it. John didn't even bothered to resist him, clearly needing his help. He was glad he was there, although part of him was upset he had just barged in his room. He could have been wearing nothing but a bed sheet.

"You think it'll be a productive day?" John asked referring to the case.

"I'm not sure. This people don't seem to do much around here. They mostly just breathe." John wanted to laugh but Sherlock's hands were still around his neck. At least they smelled good. Lavender.

With their ties tied and their coats on, Sherlock and Watson walked down to have breakfast. Sitting already was Lord Grantham, Tom Branson and Lady Rose.

"Ah, our guests of honor!" exclaimed Lord Grantham as they walked in. They greeted each other and the guests then sat across from each other. Carson was serving them as they discussed the case.

"She was a very kind and admirable girl, Alice. She certainly stood out among the maids. Always had a kind word to say, even if it was just good morning. She used to talk a lot about her family in Ripon" said Tom, remembering her sweetly.

"And you know this how?" That an aristocrat would know so much about a maid, including her family, seemed very odd to Sherlock.

"We would occasionally speak when I was the chauffeur" said Tom.

"Chauffeur? Then what on earth are you doing here, upstairs? You are not in accordance to the aristocratic structures!" said Sherlock puzzled. John thought he was very rash, although he did wonder the same thing. Sherlock was just much more forward than him.

"Well, I married Sybil, one of Robert's daughters."

"Yes, he is part of the family now" said Robert, defending his son-in-law, whom he had grown accustomed to. His affection for him was however overshadowed with the pain he suddenly felt as he remembered Sybil.

"Sybil? Why haven't I met her?" Sherlock inquired. He felt the need to know everyone in the Abbey so as to know the case better itself.

"She passed away" said Lady Rose quickly. She understood it was better she answered for it would be too painful for either Robert or Tom to reply. Carson too felt a sudden wave of grief, lightly pouring tea outside of John's cup as her name was uttered.

"Oh" said Sherlock very softly, almost inaudibly. He paused, understanding the feeling of dejection in the air. John saw in his friend's eyes that he knew it was no moment to speak, which made him feel both proud and relieved.

A brief silence was felt in the dinning room, with the wind gaining speed outside and interrupting Sybil's memory.

"I'm sorry to ask, Lord Grantham, but has anything unusual been happening here recently? Anything out of the ordinary, with the staff even?" John interrupted, both as a way to break the silence and as a curiosity. The word "murder" uttered by the Dowager the night before was still running around in his mind. Something told him the Abbey was more prone to misfortunes than it seemed.

"I'm afraid not. What happened to Alice seems to be a very random and unfortunate event. I can assure you I run a very tight ship around here."

"Oh, I'm sure you do" replied John shortly, so as to reassure Lord Grantham he didn't think otherwise. Insulting the Abbey's owner seemed to be the worse thing he could do right now.

"Is it true, however, that a certain Turkish ambassador died while staying here?" said Sherlock abruptly. Something in John twitched inside him as he heard that.

"Yes, I'm afraid so" said Lord Grantham, who was clearly caught off guard with such a question. The death of Mr. Pamuk clearly wasn't a source of pride for Downton.

"Was he murdered, then?" questioned Sherlock.

"Certainly not!" replied Robert, disconcerted. Sherlock was managing to do exactly what John feared to do.

"Please forgive Mr Holmes. He likes to be thorough in his investigation" said John quickly, so as to avoid an escalation of tones and nerves. "We just want to make sure we have all the details right". Sherlock looked at his partner annoyed, now used to the fact that he always tried to make peace with everyone. Such an inconvenience.

"Well, I can assure you his death has nothing to do with it. It was an isolated occurrence." Behind Lord Grantham, Carson stood by the door. He was not liking Sherlock's accusations one bit.

"Maybe we can head downstairs to question the staff then?" suggested Watson. Clearly the information they needed and the people who could provide it were on the other side of the social spectrum.

"Of course. Carson will take you."

"Yes, my Lord."

They finished breakfast and were headed downstairs when Lady Mary appears in the hall. Dressed in black and with a stern posture she approaches them and they greet.

"Are you going downstairs to continue the investigation?" asked Lady Mary.

"That is why we are here" replied Sherlock, unamused. There was something he felt off about her. He identified her as a widow, through her clothing and the fact that he also remembered reading in the paper about Matthew and his terrible accident.

"Well I hope you find the coward that did this to Alice".

"Again, that's why we are here." Sherlock's words did not suit well with her, making her wonder that perhaps Sherlock might be the most unpleasant man she had ever met.

They departed in different ways but as Carson lead them through the hall into the stairs, with John right behind him, Sherlock looked over his shoulder and he sees Mary looking at him with the most peculiar look on her face. To him it said many things: grief, sorrow, anxiety, perplexity and perhaps murder.


End file.
